


Valleys hushed and white with snow

by Pikamiya



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikamiya/pseuds/Pikamiya
Summary: Sakurai Sho is an up and coming newscaster on a hit Youtube News Channel.  Even though they can be rather silly, he prides himself in knowing that his corner is always on point and topical, covering a variety of different cultural content pieces.  When his assistant successfully gets him an interview with the secretive developer of the hit game "Firestarter," he's excited to prove his worth to the team.  But how will he handle this hot new enigma, who is so much deeper than meets the eye?





	Valleys hushed and white with snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [64907](https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/gifts).



By the time he got to his door, the rain was coming down so hard that it practically bounced off the pavement in front of him.  A small river separated his wingtips from his stoop, complicating the familiar motions of a return home. Swiftly, Sakurai Sho juggled the items in his hands, pressing his cellphone into his jacket pocket and then moving his umbrella from his left hand to his right in order fish out his keys.  As he turned the key in the tumbler, he took an exaggerated step to cross the river, smirking slightly to himself as he swayed a bit with the motion. That final drink at the bar with his old soccer buddies contributed to his wobble, but not entirely to the warmth he felt throughout. 

 

He clambered through to the entryway, resting his umbrella in the corner before sitting at the foot of the stairs to the second story.  He unwrapped himself from his scarf, placing his phone on the stairs before pulling off his coat and lightly tossing the items over the banister to dry out before morning.  He carefully untied his shoes, pulling them from his stocking feet rather than toeing them off, and then, using the railing to pull himself up, padding into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water.  He leaned back against the countertop as he took a sip, his other hand travelling up to tug at the knot of his necktie, loosening it enough to no longer feel like it was choking him. He spun the glass in his fingers before tossing back the rest of the water and heading into the den.  

 

He was grateful that the fireplace was an electric one; no worries about kindling and striking a match in his current boozy state.  He enjoyed the ambience, the feeling of warmth and belonging that the fire gave him; it was comforting and reminded him of long nights back at home. 

 

He forwent the leather armchair next to the flames, opting instead to lean against the highlighted encasement opposite.  Inside, nestled carefully within custom made alcoves, were snow globes of all sizes. Sho reached in, carefully pulling out the globe from his last trip to Disneyland Paris, flipping it over and shaking it gently, watching as the white snow particles collected at the top and gently turning the music box key on the bottom.  Turning it upright, he watched the snow drift down and reminisced over the night just past as the tinkling notes plinked the opening of  _ “Be Our Guest.”  _

 

He had met up with Tsubasa and the rest of the team downtown, at a small bar right outside the heart of Yokohama.  Even though they got together every week, tonight was special - Yusuke had announced that he and Minami had finally decided to marry.  A satisfied smile formed on Sho’s face; he loved to see his friends happy, and Yusuke had been floating on cloud nine since he had first met Minami a year ago. 

 

The music faded, and Sho carefully set the globe back in its position on the shelf.  He grabbed the nearby cloth, gently buffing out his finger prints on the glass before flicking off the cabinet’s light.  He felt a small surge of satisfaction that he made it up the stairs before he tripped, deciding to pull off the rest of the day’s attire before crawling into his bed.  His eyes were closed before his head even hit the pillow. 

 

****

 

The cold of the night settled deep into Nino’s bones as he breathed in deeply, hands in his pockets, walking briskly through the alleyway.  Sure, his phone had alerted him to the night’s weather -- but this warning hadn’t even been necessary. He knew before the bytes could get to it, before the AMOLED display on his phone could share the ones and zeros that would shape the digits - it was below freezing; time for Jack Frost to make his rounds.  

 

The freezing rain falling from the sky encouraged the temperature to drop and for most people in the usually busy town to scurry home.  Very few were wandering the streets; so Nino made sure to stick to the shadows and alleyways - there was no one out on a meandering stroll and his pace would have him stick out like a sore thumb if he were to be noticed.  There was no reason to draw attention to himself; and he certainly did not want anyone to see what he was planning next.

 

Nino stopped at the corner of two alleys, eyebrows tucked down in concentration.  The night was still young, heartbeats not yet registering the steady cadence of the deeply asleep.  Well, young for Nino that is; the free schedule of an independent game developer meant that he had barely woken up an hour ago, pinged awake by the tingling in his fingers and toes, the prickling sensation waking him like no caffeine or other stimulant ever could. 

 

He stopped at the next house he came across, casting his gaze through the window into the sitting room on the other side of the house.  Lights were off downstairs, although upstairs the constant sound of voices on a television set rumbled. Nino pulled off his gloves, shoving them into a pocket before he rubbed his hands together, creating small sparks of static electricity before he blew carefully across his slightly opened palms.  His breath crystallized on the window pane in an intricate feathered pattern, starting at the bottom left corner and stretching halfway across. 

 

Nino dropped his hands to his sides before tilting his head, checking the pattern to make sure that he was satisfied. Nodding once, he repeated the ritual on all of the downstairs windows before turning to the next house; sometimes skipping a window here and there, other times skipping entire homes, he made his way up and down the streets of Yokohama. 

 

He reached another intersection, turning his head and listening closely, choosing to take a left this time.  The warm glow of an interior fire drew him closer - the flames always did. He had pulled off his gloves, was in the middle of raising his hands to his face, when movement inside the room caught his eye.  

 

A man stood, silhouetted in front of the fire, heading across the room to a collection of shelves on the other side, warmly lit by lights built directly into the sides of the shelves.  Displayed with care were no less than a hundred snow globes. Nino caught a glimpse of some sort of landscape scenery surrounding the globe the man retrieved before he was thoroughly distracted - no, entranced - by what happened next. 

 

The silhouette turned, features now highlighted by the warm glow of the lights.  Dark hair, longer on the top and shaved at the sides; a slightly rounded nose set between two eyes the color of Nino’s favorite dark chocolate; lips beautifully curved.  In his shortsleeves, Nino was able to admire the well-defined arms, a stark contrast to Nino’s own spaghetti limbs, fabric pulled comfortably over an equally defined chest.  Nino took a step back, the better to ensconce himself in shadows… the better to see inside the room. Even more breathtaking than the man’s physical form was the expression on his face as he turned the globe over, as the melody played.  Nino feasted his eyes on the other man as he watched the snow fall, completely oblivious to the flakes dusting Nino’s jacket and catching in his hair. 

 

Far too soon, the music became indistinct and the man inside the room turned back to the shelf.  Nino took a step back, noting that the scene inside the room almost mimicked a snowglobe of its own as the snow fell between him and the glass.   He took another step into the shadows, worried he would be seen, but the other man didn’t even glance his way - just turned around and headed out of the room.  Nino’s ears could discern his footfalls on the stairs and, spooked at his own reaction, skipped frosting the windows on this house tonight. 

 

Nino was halfway up the hill leading to his own apartment before he realized that he had not felt it was going to snow tonight.  Freezing rain, yes; snow? He had never been wrong before, had never been caught off guard by the capricious whims of winter weather.  _ He  _ was the living embodiment of change itself,  _ he _ was freeze and sleet and sharp cold winds.   _ He  _ was the oncoming winter storm, the fickle Frost himself.

 

His walk became stilted, his mental confusion taking control of his very body.  He made it home, flinging himself onto his couch, remaining lost in thought, until the very rays of dawn made their way across his studio apartment and his eyes closed, his dreams spun of flickering flames and the flavor of cocoa. 

 

***

 

In retrospect, Sho was glad that he had Sunday to recover before returning to work.  He had slept in a bit later than he usually did, the sun much higher in the sky when he groggily blinked his eyes open, wincing a bit at the bright light.  He grimaced as he pulled up from his pillow to see the puddle of drool left behind. 

 

He spent the day taking care of minor household chores, folding some laundry and making himself some coffee.  He took a seat at his work computer, booting it up and checking his email, looking over his calendar for the next day.  He was starting early; a preliminary interview with the indie developer at  _ Freezer _ , a company cloaked in carefully crafted mystery.  _ Freezer _ had hit the scene the year previously with a role playing game that was full of early 90’s RPG nostalgia, but well-mixed with beautiful artistry and smooth, up-to-date graphics, all tied in with a compelling and character-driven storyline.  This propelled the game, called simply  _ Firestarter _ , from the relatively quiet circle of independent games development into a major storyline, and murmurs were coming through the pipeline that a second game was nearing release.  

 

However, "Chris," laughably the public side of the company but real identity hidden behind a pseudonym, had been extremely difficult to track down for an interview.  The only thing that worked, apparently, was when Sho's assistant had offered for Sho to meet with him over lunch, with  _ Paper Zed  _ footing the bill.  Sho was surprised that nobody else had tried the tactic, but again, most people would have started with a bigger budget, or at least an offer, leading up to their denial. 

 

Sho treated himself to an early night, making sure that his tablet was charged and in his briefcase, his alarm set, coat on a hanger next to where his more casual clothes were prepared for his interview.  Someone willing to meet over a hamburger wouldn’t feel anywhere near as comfortable being interviewed by someone in a fancy suit as they would by Sho’s old jeans and comfortable university sweatshirt, even though that was generally Sho’s self-directed uniform when meeting with company executives.

 

Waking up on Monday was certainly less taxing on his system; there was no drool on his pillow, and his head recovered from its post-indulgence fog.  Even still, it was a Monday, and he was grateful to the Sakurai of Sunday Night for the assistance he provided as he showered quickly, shoving legs chilled anew into the legs of his jeans.  As he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, his eyes caught the frost on the windowpanes and he smiled - the morning evidence of last night’s chill was spectacularly beautiful. Pulling on his coat and grabbing his briefcase, he headed out the door. 

 

He crunched through what remained of Saturday night’s snow, hailing a cab and heading into Zed’s offices.  The small suite of rooms located on the outskirts of downtown were a second home, and he was happy to have found this position so quickly after graduation; he was always more of a night owl than a morning bird, and this job let him take a bit of time for himself without having to worry about being in time for the morning news broadcast.  He swung off his coat, folding it over the back of his chair before heading to the coffee pot on the small desk in the corner. He measured, tapped, filled the carafe with water from the sink down the hall. He had just pressed the button, the comforting smell of fresh bean juice curling through the office, when his assistant skulked through the door, collapsing his entire body over his own desk on the other side of the room from Sho’s. 

 

Sho smirked - morning had never been good to Matsumoto Jun. 

 

As the last few drops finished percolating into the carafe, Sho was grabbing Jun’s purple stoneware mug out of the cabinet, adding the requisite sixteen drops of stevia and a tablespoon of organic, cruelty-free cream before filling the rest of the mug to the brim and setting it on Jun’s desk, right within smell range.  Jun’s eyes opened blearily, inhaling deeply, hoisting up his torso so that his hands could wrap around the mug and bring it closer to his nose, seeming to bring the caffeine in through the scent alone. 

 

Sho returned to his desk, leaving Jun to his odd morning rituals and booting up his ancient computer.  It would be a solid twenty minutes before either Jun or the computer were ready to get to work, so he headed out and down the hall to the office of the news broadcast’s editor in chief. 

 

Editor in chief was an audacious name for a man who edited video footage, adding clip art, cuts, and sound effects to make Paper Zed Youtube’s number one news channel.  However, to be fair, he had started Zed in his bedroom back in Chiba, complete with “stock footage” that was primarily scenes staged with his dinosaur figurines. Still, the humorous take on culture and current events had hit the right cord, and when Sho had graduated and worried about finding a job without moving far away from Tokyo’s over-saturated market, his childhood friend had been quick to add him to the team - even when Sho had said he couldn’t possibly do it without some help.  

 

Since then, their subscriber count had doubled, due in part to the candid and ridiculous shots of Jun that Aiba often snuck into their content.  Sho himself had brought a fair number of subscribers, but he only knew they were due to his presence because with his first video, Aiba had brought up his belly button piercing from his late teens, and the comment section was guaranteed to have several requests for “evidence” with every upload.  Still, the interview with “Chris” was really going to put next Friday’s video on the top of the trending lists, and Sho was excited to share what he had in mind with his old friend. 

 

Sho knocked on the doorframe of Aiba’s office, barely pausing before continuing through.  Manners would have him wait for a response, especially from someone technically considered his superior, but Sho knew from personal experience that Aiba could be as naked as the day he was born and he would still call out for Sho to enter.  If the door was open, Aiba considered it invitation enough. 

 

He found Aiba as he had expected; sprawled out on the floor, laptop on the ground in front of him, propped up on a beanbag and working hard at editing last week’s shots, where Aiba had interviewed a pterodactyl statue.  Jun had provided the pterodactyl’s voice, and even Sho couldn’t help but chuckle when Jun’s voice proudly proclaimed that he only ate Cadbury eggs. 

 

At the sound, Aiba looked up, rolling onto his back and grinning widely as Sho came to a stop next to him. He rubbed his stomach and stretched, fists bumping into his laptop screen and causing him to scramble back around to make sure the device was ok.  

 

The two of them chatted for a few minutes, going over Sho’s interview plans and Aiba forking over the “company card” - a prepaid card he had purchased a month ago at the grocery store to make accounting for their petty cash a little more simple.  

 

Sho returned to his office, smirking at Jun’s posture - sitting up straight at his desk, hands arched over his keyboard, typing away as if he hadn’t been a formless lump just a few short minutes ago.  Once the caffeine hit his system, he became all business; clothes straightened without a wrinkle, hair carefully brushed away from his eyes and held in a clip at his temple, fierce eyebrows permanently furrowed in concentration. 

 

“Oh, Jun, my calendar says that lunch with Chris is at 12:30, but it doesn’t tell me where it is.  It didn’t have a Maps link, either.” 

 

Jun grunted in annoyance, right eyebrow quirking higher.  

 

“That’s because this guy wanted to have lunch at this obscure burger joint that has never heard of the internet.  The place doesn’t have a name, and it’s actually attached to the side of an art studio so I didn’t want you to get confused.” 

 

Jun briskly rifled through some file folders in the bottom right drawer of his desk, pulling out one that had  _ Freezer’s  _ logo pasted on the front.  He plucked a slip of paper out and rolled his chair across to Sho, offering the paper and losing the heightened brow. 

 

Sho’s eyes flickered down the list of instructions, which read almost like a riddle.  Counting stairs, avoiding dogs… 

 

“He made me write it down, word for word,” Jun’s voice, his face serious but his eyes giving the game away.  “Good luck, I’d get started early.” 

 

Sho’s eyes narrowed, and he sighed heavily before pushing back from his desk and grabbing his coat.  And he thought getting Chris to agree to the interview was difficult enough. 

 

Jun’s laughter followed him to the door, the chill wind making him thankful he remembered his coat.

 

****

 

Nino’s fingers tapped along the tabletop, mimicking the rhythm of  _ Firestarter’s _ opening theme as he continued to watch the door to the small restaurant.  He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was five minutes after one and debating with himself.  Were his instructions really too vague? Should he call the office and clarify? 

 

His stomach growled, deciding his answer for him.  His fingers were scrolling through his emails to find the telephone number for  _ Paper Zed _ when the bell jangled above the door.  He glanced up quickly, and his entire body turned into ice as soon as he saw the newcomer.  There was no mistaking his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders discernible even under his winter coat.  The eyes that had gazed into the snow globe so longingly the other night were now narrowed with irritation, irritation that Nino had caused.  He felt his heart drop into his stomach just a bit, regretting for the first time his own mischievous nature. He squeezed his own eyes tight, counting to three and giving himself a reset before opening them again, this time making eye contact and tossing his hand up for a nonchalant wave. 

 

“Sakurai? From  _ Paper Zed?” _

 

Sho’s eyes stopped scanning the restaurant, landing on him and heading in his direction.   Nino discharged some of his nervous energy carefully, adding a few additional ice cubes discreetly into his water glass before the other man reached his table.  The slight scrape of the chair was nearly a screech to Nino’s sensitive ears, and he hoped he successfully hid his wince. 

 

“Ah, Chris, I presume?” the hoarse voice was at odds with the sepia-toned image of fire and warmth in Nino’s memory, and it took him a second to recover from the mental disconnect.

 

“Ah, yes, the one and only.  I’ve been waiting forever, I thought my stomach was going to eat itself.  I hope  _ Zed _ sent you with enough cash; I’m eating for two, you know,” he rubbed his stomach in obvious mimicry of an expecting mother.  

 

Sho’s mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and Nino was satisfied that the other man wasn’t horrified by his offbeat sense of humor. Nino’s eyes soaked in his form as he placed his jacket on the other chair before settling into his own. 

 

“It’ll be fine, I’m just glad you were willing to hang around and wait on me for a bit.  The dog at Stones Avenue and Travis Lane wasn’t out in his yard quite yet, and I wasn’t sure if I had the correct turn or not.” 

 

The waiter, who had been hovering nearby and pestering Nino throughout the last forty minutes, swooped in and took Sho’s drink order and delivered a menu.  Nino could tell that the waiter was surprised to see that the “colleague” hadn’t been a figment of Nino’s imagination, and in the post-lunch lull he became eager to earn back their business.  Nino rolled his eyes, but felt renewed happiness that his dime wouldn’t be contributing to the waiter’s paycheck. 

 

The next few minutes followed the general pattern of menu consideration, Nino remarking that he was getting the hamburger upon prompting, Sho nodding approval.  The waiter returned, and Nino ordered his hamburger, double patties, potato chips as a side. He picked up his glass and jingled the remaining ice cubes at the waiter, reminding him that the last time the man had given him a refill had been a solid twenty-three minutes prior… not that Nino was counting, or anything. 

 

“I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich, the Caesar salad with added onions, an order of the potato wedges, and mozzarella sticks as a starter, please.”  Sho snapped his menu closed, before hastily opening it back up. “Oh, and, can I also have the mushroom swiss burger and some fried pickles, please.” 

 

Nino smirked, ducking his head down to make sure that the other man wouldn’t catch him at it.  He made sure to keep his eyes averted for a few seconds, looking over the rest of the restaurant just to make sure that his amusement wouldn’t get the better of him. 

 

“So, Chris,” Nino groaned a bit - this guy would start the interview before he even had a single bite in him.  “Tell me about this hot new game.” 

 

“What game?” the waiter appeared with his water and, without losing eye contact with his adversary, Nino took a deliberate, prolonged, swig. 

 

Sho’s eyes narrowed, shockingly aware of the nature of Nino’s scheme, and Nino took a moment to re-evaluate his perceived capabilities of his opponent.  All thoughts of the other man, warm with firelight, disappeared as they figuratively locked horns. 

 

“I have to say, I’ve had the chance to play a little bit of  _ Firestarter,  _ myself,” this parry Nino was used to; he could talk endlessly about  _ Firestarter.  _  He opened his mouth but was cut off before he could start. “My assistant brought it in on his mobile and I was surprised at how negligible online game play is. Can you tell me, why bother to develop an online mode, if users aren’t encouraged to use it?” 

 

Ah.  This question he could answer. 

 

“ _ Firestarter  _ is meant to harken back to a simpler time in video game history.  These days, players are overstimulated or horribly disappointed. They either have to juggle an online experience in addition to their quest lines, or they have no quest line available at all.   _ Freezer _ decided to return to the origins of gameplay, so players wouldn’t have to rely on others to accomplish their goals.” 

 

“So, is this a standard for you, then?  The urge to be self-reliant has led you to develop your games on your terms, rather than seek employment with one of the bigger game companies like Nintendo or Ubisoft?” 

 

Nino’s eyes narrowed; he would not fall for this trick.  This time, he unrolled his silverware and placed his napkin in his lap, carefully arranging his knife and spoon in parallel lines by his glass.  

 

Sho waited for several seconds, before beginning a new line of questioning. 

 

“If you had the opportunity to launch  _ Firestarter  _ with an established game studio, would you do it?” 

 

Nino’s grip on the fork he was shifting tightened, and he had to concentrate hard in order to pull his fingers away from the metal surface before they froze to it.  He clasped his hands together in front of himself, regulating his breathing before answering. 

 

“I think that  _ Freezer _ is now an established studio.  People that are looking for games like  _ Firestarter _ will not have any difficulty finding us.  Sure, we aren’t bankrolled as well as the major studios, but we have the freedom to create as we wish.” 

 

“I hear you using ‘we.’ Are there more people working at  _ Freezer _ than you, Chris?” 

 

“That was the royal ‘we.’”

 

They were interrupted by the waiter, returning and placing plates in front of them.  Due to the size of Sakurai’s order, they were hard pressed for space. Nino was thankful for the reprieve the food brought, although listening to Sakurai’s appreciative noises as he ate was hard for different reasons. 

 

Nino, personally, could give or take food.  He wasn’t particularly interested in flavors, hamburgers being a mild diversion from his normal neutrality.  He ate when he was hungry, servant to the dastardly whims of a living body. But this Sakurai Sho obviously took food very seriously.  So seriously, in fact, that he had the same look on his face as Nino’s partner Ohno did, when deep in concentration on the new concept art for  _ Aquaduct -  _ the new game that they were working on but that Sho sure as hell wasn’t going to know anything about until he was three burgers in. 

 

However, watching Sho eat… Nino was now looking forward to something more than just free burgers.  The little moans and groans coming from Sakurai was doing some serious work on Nino’s libido, a punch to the gut that was making his hamburger feel a little bit odd. 

 

It did something to his defenses, as well - he wasn’t quite prepared for Sho’s next volley. 

 

“What inspired you to make  _ Firestarter _ in the first place?  Was there any particular influence?” 

 

“Sometimes you just want to feel warm.”

 

That must have been the burger. Nino feels almost betrayed by his mouth for the first time in his life.  At the look of confusion on Sho’s face, he scrambled to find an answer offhanded enough to make the previous line casual.  

 

“It was summer, and I wanted it to cool down, but you can’t cool yourself in the summer very easily.  However, in the winter, it’s as easy as lighting a fire to warm up. Hence, firestarter.” 

 

The lie Nino scrambled to come up with seemed to work.  Nino watched as Sho’s gaze turned inward, and he could see the same warm fireplace that he was sure Sho was thinking of, the glint off the glass of the snowglobes, the memory holding the coziness of the little room full of treasures.  Even his view, looking in, was enough to relax the muscles of Nino’s own shoulders, and he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

 

The rest of the lunch progressed, Sho trying to needle out hints, Nino defiantly denying him the satisfaction.  Finally, Sho’s plates were clear and Nino’s leftovers had been boxed up, and  _ Paper Zed  _ had successfully bankrolled their meal.  

 

“I really would like to know more about you.  I mean, about the next game  _ Freezer  _ has in the pipeline.” 

 

Nino felt his eyes go wide, corners stretching in surprise. He had been standing by the table and gathering his coat before heading out the door, and he whipped around, hoping his face was in some sort of control.

 

“Eh? But I only agreed to one interview.” 

 

Usually, Nino would start hinting about the fact that more food would make for a happy interviewee.  Or at least, he would if he had ever done this interview thing before -- that had certainly been the plan before Sho walked in here today, at the very least. 

 

“I’m not sure you ate enough today for both of you,” Sho’s reference to the joke Nino had made an hour ago warmed Nino’s stomach, curling through to his extremities, making him smile the first genuine smile he had expressed today.

 

“Fine, but next time, baby wants curry.” 

 

Sho laughed as he headed towards the door, tossing over his shoulder that his assistant would be in touch. 

 

As he left, Nino sank back into his chair.  His arch nemesis, the waiter, came back to clear off the table and Nino couldn’t restrain his glare.  He was distracted, though, when the waiter picked up his glass and he caught sight of the frost inside. 

 

“How the hell did  _ that  _ happen?” the waiter asked, and Nino shrugged.

 

“It’s probably because it took you an ice age to fill it.”  Nino hopped back up and headed out the door. 

 

Originally, Nino had planned to head home after lunch, to lounge on the floor and play video games until he fell asleep.  Instead, his feet drifted next door, into the art gallery and automatically taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the small loft above.  He pulled a small keyring out of his pocket, jiggling the blue-painted key into the lock and then shoving his shoulder into it. The solid slam gained him entry to a modest open space, with hardwood floors and plenty of light streaming in from the skylights, even if the colors themselves were muted as they strained to break through the moderate cloud cover.  

 

His business partner and best friend, the artistic genius behind  _ Firestarter _ , was standing near an easel placed carefully in the middle of the space.  The unmade futon tucked into the corner of the small studio paid testament to Ohno’s commitment to his work - at this time, a large painting of a merman, perched on rock in the middle of a swirling eddy, a rapturous expression on a face that looked a little too much like Ohno’s own for Nino’s comfort. 

 

Ohno’s music was up so loud in the wireless cans resting over his ears that Nino’s entry hadn’t even startled him away.  Nino snuck his camera out of his pocket, making sure to zoom in on the little tip of tongue that was sticking out of Ohno’s mouth.  Just as he hit the shutter button, with preternatural reflexes Ohno’s tongue flicked back into his mouth and Nino was still out the free dinner Ohno’s mother had promised him three years ago, if he ever got photographic proof.  Nino sighed heavily, sliding his phone back in as he considered a new angle of attack. 

 

He toed off his shoes, placing them next to Ohno’s before sneaking in his stocking feet behind him.  Just as he reached out to grab the earpiece, Ohno’s hand grabbed his arm, fingers gripping nearly tight enough to bruise. Nino let out a small hiss of pain, and Ohno’s fingers released, patting lightly.  Nino could have sworn all of his attention was on the painting, but if Ohno had been aware enough of him to catch him but hadn’t taken his headphones off, he wasn’t ready to stop working quite yet. 

 

Since the artwork was very obviously for  _ Aquaduct,  _ Nino busied himself by heading to the fridge and sliding in the styrofoam box with his leftovers from lunch on to one of the empty shelves.  Nino hadn’t been kidding when he stated he’d been eating for two - next time he’d make sure to order enough curry to stretch a little further.  

 

Although  _ Firestarter _ was still making them a good chunk of change, both men knew that success, especially as an independent company, was never guaranteed; Nino’s hardwon frugality paired well with Ohno’s own easy flexibility.  They still survived mostly through the sales of Ohno’s art in the gallery downstairs; Nino counting pennies and Ohno floating by. The pair of them often descended on Ohno’s family home for dinner a few nights a week and Ohno's mother's pointed questions about their partnership had gotten sharper since Chiba had extended legal status to same-sex couples. They were close, and there was love between them, but it wasn't  _ that _ .

 

Nino returned to the studio, flopping on the floor in the sun’s light like an overgrown cat.  He eventually nodded off, awoken a few hours later as the sun dipped below the horizon, the familiar tingle starting in his extremities.  Ohno continued painting, having made great progress during his snooze, and Nino pushed himself up off the floor and headed to the largest window to mimic Ohno’s artistry on the glass. 

 

“Isn’t frost supposed to go on the outside?” Ohno’s voice startled him, but only momentarily. 

 

“Nah, frost goes where frost wants.”  The dryness of the air made his breath sparkle as it passed his palms, the moisture within freezing before it even touched the glass.  “Why is it so damn dry in here?” 

 

Ohno’s response was non-committal as always, already making the corners of Nino’s mouth turn upward as he mouths the familiar words along with Ohno. “Maybe we need to get a humidifier.” 

 

“You  _ are  _ the humidifier, dummy,” Nino turned as Ohno sat the genkan, tugging on his shoes.  Already, the air felt heavier, and they needed to get a move on before the new moisture added   Nino joined him, tugging on his own before the two headed out the door. 

 

As they finished their descent, Ohno’s hand joined Nino’s in his jacket pocket, and Nino gave it a brief squeeze.  Their friendship was special, specific, unique in its symmetry and symbiosis. As Ohno squeezed back, Nino felt himself growing stronger; the ice did not feel it was scraping out of his lungs.  The pair wandered through the streets, stopping in front of windows here and there and Ohno providing cover as Nino did his thing. They moved in practiced synchronization, Ohno providing the additional hydration that Nino needed - right up until Nino realized what house they were standing outside. 

 

Tonight, the house was dark, no cheerful fire lighting it up from the inside.  Nino concentrated closely and did not hear any sounds that the house was occupied within.  He slid his hand out from its connection with Ohno’s palm, cupping his hands around his eyes in order to see inside better.  He felt Ohno do the same beside him, silently, and was happy to not be alone this time. 

 

He raked his eyes over the shelving, trying to capture the essence of the magic he felt last time he was here, but its absence caused him to shiver slightly in the darkness. Ohno shifted closer, and Nino drew a different kind of strength from his presence; his friend always knew what he needed, almost before he did.  

 

Ohno did not need to ask a single question, or utter a single word.  The entire events of the weekend, the fascination and practically siren-call of the fire light, the man who reappeared in an unexpected place like fate, the battle he was fighting, for the first time, to reign in Frost’s impulses; all of it fell out of Nino’s mouth without a second’s hesitation.  

 

He finished by mimicking Sakurai’s final words about feeding the “baby,” the genuine acceptance and warmth he had felt at Sakurai’s laughter.  He used the puffs of breath to blow across his palms, decorating this window for the first time, and smiled as he reviewed the final product - almost like a flickering flame of frost rising up along the window pane. 

 

Nino turned to meet Ohno’s eyes, and was a bit surprised at the moisture he saw at the corners before Ohno wrapped him in a hug, his overcoat encompassing the two of them.  Nino felt him shaking, worried at what he would see. They stayed that way for several long moments before Ohno pulled back, a wide smile crossing his face. Nino’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion for just a second, before Ohno spoke. 

 

“This is great!”  Nino wasn’t so sure. “Finally!” 

 

Nino raised an eyebrow, but Ohno didn’t give any further details.  He just happily continued to stand there, smile plastered across his face and glittering in his eyes.  Nino rolled his eyes, knowing that Ohno only explained himself when he felt like it. 

 

There was no reason to stay, as the house was still empty and the subject of his thoughts was not at home.  The tingling in his fingers and toes had lessened drastically, and so he answered Ohno’s smile with one of his own.   

 

On the way back to Ohno’s studio, the pair chatted about the current status of Aqueduct, mind filled with thoughts of work as a gentle warmth began building inside Nino’s stomach.  By the time he had watched Ohno enter the studio, he was more than ready to get home and continue working on the trade system for the new game. 

 

In the early hours of the morning, Frost fell asleep, a clever new heat curling deep, nestling within. 

 

~~

 

Sho’s return to the office a few days later saw a different spring in his step, the movement just a bit bouncier than his usual pace.  He and Chris had finished lunch, and although he was barely any closer to finding out any more about an upcoming game, he was definitely closer to something. 

 

His phone rang, a brief text notification sound, and he pulled it out of his pocket to notice a Snap from Aiba.  It needed no words; an empty canister of coffee took the focus, a blurry outline Sho could recognize as Jun in the background.  Since he had the card, it made sense that he would stop on his way back in to make sure that Jun was able to work tomorrow morning.  Sho smiled, sliding his phone in his pocket and musing how this was probably, technically, Jun’s job, but that the best part of  _ Paper Zed  _ was the ability of all of them to chip in and help each other as needed. 

 

However, the timing meant he had to backtrack just a little bit; the coffee shop he had just passed had really superb coffee, and he knew they sold their grounds separately.  Sho needed some brownie points around the office; he still didn’t have a good handle on the interview material, and Jun would have to listen to Chris’ indecipherable instructions a third time to get them any farther.  Sho smiled just thinking about their next meeting - Sho’s choice, this time- the only limitation he had received from Chris was that the “baby hates sushi.” 

 

Sho pulled the door open, ducking to narrowly avoid the hanging bells serenading his entrance into the shop.  To the side of the shop were a few dry goods and souvenirs, along with the bags of ground coffee, and Sho made his way over to lift the first bag and take a deep sniff. 

 

The door jangled behind him again, but Sho’s attention was kept captive by the second bag of coffee - this one had undertones of vanilla and hazelnut, both things that Jun loved to an extent that almost made Sho embarrassed.  This particular brand the store imported, and Sho was happy to use his hard-won English skills to read the package. “Dreamstate” sounded like something that Jun would enjoy, but as his hand reached to grab another flavor to make sure of his choice, he heard a voice behind him that he recognized and he turned with a grin only to stop dead in his tracks. 

 

“Oh-chan! I thought we were going to meet at the studio.”  Only Chris’s spikey hair was visible over the top of the shelf at first, but Sho was mostly startled at the excitement in his voice. 

 

“Ah,” the man at the counter turned, a dreamy smile across his face, and Sho was struck by how comfortable he looked as Chris wrapped his arms around him and squeezed before taking a step back.  Feeling a bit voyeuristic, but unable to move forward or to make a sound, Sho watched as his newfound bubble of happiness burst in his chest. 

 

“Nino, I got you a tea,” the rest of their conversation was lost to Sho as he watched the pair walk, hand in hand, to the end of the counter to await their order.  His mind stumbled at the new moniker, scrambling to catch up as he assembled the pieces of what he knew and what he had assumed. Obviously, what he had felt as a delightful back and forth, that went beyond professional courtesy and had felt wholly personal, was just a regular part of the person who was Chris… Nino?

 

Sho remained, coffee in hand, until the two men left the store - holding on to coffee and each other.  He was just glad that he had not mentioned the man’s fascinating and unique qualities to Jun or Aiba; it was obvious that his interest had been one sided, and this way he was not going to have to endure endless ribbing from the other men.  He sighed heavily, shaking off his disappointment and taking Jun’s coffee up to the checkout counter. 

 

~~~

 

Nino woke up, the sweat pouring out of him freezing on his skin in spite of the heat he had jacked up in his apartment the night before.  For once, he wasn’t worrying about the cost; he was so damn tired of being cold. 

 

The images of the nightmare were more than illusion.  He squeezed his eyes tight, but was unable to stop the chain of memories.  University of Michigan - Dearborn campus, late fall; trees bereft of leaves, sharp sting of the wind from Lake St. Clair making it okay that he couldn’t see Keith’s broad grin under his blue and yellow Michigan scarf.  His eyes, laughing above, made Nino’s jokes worthwhile. 

 

Although his English skills were lackluster at best, Nino would always be grateful that he ran into Keith at orientation.  Keith Rockingham had taken Japanese in high school, and with his interest in Japanese RPGs, had practically zeroed in on Nino that first day of Game Design 101 and had taken him under his wing.  Even though Nino was usually a bit more hard-shelled, the 18 hours of travel and instant immersion with people who seemed to talk a mile a minute had left him a tad bit dazed. Keith’s initial greeting, and the friendly-if-stilted conversation that followed, had helped Nino to stabilize and get his feet under him.  

 

Since then the pair had become inseparable.  Nino had never felt this instantly attached to anyone since he and his childhood friend Ohno had met in preschool, and even the language barrier wasn’t enough to keep them from being friends.  

 

The wind blew a bit harder, and Nino tugged his own overcoat closer.  He himself was immune to the chill, but he hadn’t had the chance to share that little detail with Keith; how do you explain to someone you’ve only known a few short months, someone that you rely on, that you are the physical reincarnation of a concept that transcends time itself? 

 

Keith tugged on Nino’s arm, halting their traipse around the shore of the lake.  Nino blinked in the bright winter sunlight as he turned to look up; he had never felt as small as he did now, standing next to Keith who was over 190 centimeters tall.  

 

“Chris- no, Kazu…” 

 

Time stopped when Keith’s head blocked out the sun; Nino barely had time to pull in a breath, the word “no” forming on his lips right as Keith’s head leaned down to capture them with his own.  Tears formed in the corner of Nino’s eyes as the warm brown of Keith’s frosted over, the warmth clinging to Nino’s shoulder suddenly becoming the same bitter chill of the wind. 

 

Nino, present-day Nino, shook his head hard, balling up his fist and bopping himself in the side of the head to shake himself free from the memory-turned-dream.  He didn’t need to relive how he dragged his best friend to the pier, how heavy he had been and how much strength it had taken to push him off, to watch as he disappeared down into the chilly depths. 

 

He didn’t need to remember how he had jumped in after him; partially to add credibility to his story, partially to hope that this time his immunity would not save him.  How he had dragged himself back out of the water, moments later, both cursing and thanking the fact that they were the only idiots willing to visit the shore today. How he had walked into the nearest open shop, that sold coffee, and had forgotten to use English - “警察に連絡してください”  - followed by a very stuttered “911, call, please.” 

 

The memories that followed were blurry; quick snapshots of brief moments he never wanted to remember.  Keith’s parents faces as they were told the news; his own mother welcoming him back into the airport, Ohno lingering a step behind; the true understanding in their eyes as he broke down and told them the whole story on the drive back home. 

 

Nino let out a brief sob; even five years later, it was enough to shake him.  He pulled himself out of bed, ice cracking along his skin, stumbling to the small bath.  He turned the water on, as hot as it would get, before climbing in and sliding down, allowing the steaming water to break away the ice, even if the tingling in his extremities would not go away.  

 

Too quickly, the hot water was gone, and Nino stood up, shivering as he turned off the taps.  He found his warmest clothes and put them all on - a long sleeved thermal shirt, a hoodie, and an oversized large knit sweater.  Two pairs of sweatpants and he felt confident and warm enough to deal with the iced-over semblance of his bed. 

 

After he bundled them up to take to the laundromat, Nino sent a quick text to Sho’s assistant at Paper Zed that he would not be able to make it to the interview that day.  He felt a little colder inside, remembering the similarities he felt every time he saw Keith and when he met Sho. He grimaced to himself, grabbing the bundle and pushing his way out the door, scarcely making it down the three flights of stairs to ground level without falling, tripping around his burden. 

 

It felt like the entirety of Yokohama was out in force, and Nino remembered why he usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to do his laundry.  Brightly clad kimonos were everywhere, casually celebrating the last day of the Lunar New Year, and he barely dodged a pair of scampering children on his way.  He bust in the door to the laundromat, securing the nearest extra large machine and jingling in his yen, shoving the slot closed and settling back, satisfied at the first bang of machinery. 

 

He settled into one of the hard plastic chairs, crossing his legs and staring off into space for a moment.  As his brain settled down from the obstacle course he took to get here, images and flashes of memory from the past began popping back into his brain and, anxious to distract himself, he pulled out his phone. 

 

A few rounds of Puzzle & Dragon later, Nino admitted to himself that he was not going to successfully keep himself occupied. In a rare bit of self-awareness, he panned through his phone, past all the names and numbers of video game executives that he had tried to win over, to give him a chance on his return to Japan.  He landed on Ohno’s name and, with a deep breath, pressed the call button. 

 

The phone rang in his ear, the gentle “pu-ru-ru” soothing his jangled nerves. After the sixth or seventh ring, Ohno’s mumbled greeting came down the line and Nino’s heart instantly felt lighter, less like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

 

In true Nino fashion, the only thing to do was to step forward.  Nino squared his shoulders, acutely aware that Ohno couldn’t actually see him, and coughed before spitting out every word in a cluster. 

 

“I met this guy, that Sakurai guy from Paper Zed, and he’s hot, Ohno.  Like, super attractive with a stupid jawline and stupid sloping shoulders that shouldn’t be attractive but they are.   But listen,” Nino interjected at himself, Ohno hadn’t even audibly breathed. “He reminds me of Keith.” 

 

Nino heard Ohno’s sharp intake this time, and scrambled to respond as if Ohno had accused him of something heinous. 

 

“I haven’t forgotten him, Oh-chan, I haven’t.”  Nino realized that his own breath was at the verge of hyperventilating, so he slowed down, closing his eyes and taking a second to breathe in deeply and count to five before his next exhale. 

 

Into the silence, Ohno spoke softly.  “And?” 

 

“And I  _ don’t know, _ Ohno. I thought I’d freeze another boyfriend into a flesh-colored popsicle.” 

 

Ohno’s soft laugh huffed down the line, and Nino felt himself let go of the stress he had been building up inside of himself.  Yes, he’d admit it, if even only to himself - he was extremely attracted to the YouTube newscaster, but he knew there was nothing that could come from it. His entire life, he’d only been able to share affectionate touches with family members and others, like Ohno, who represented an element on their own.  And, so far, he hadn’t had the luck to run into any others. 

 

The two men chit-chatted for the remainder of Nino’s time in the laundromat, topics varying from their game to Ohno’s latest ocean adventure. Nino even treated himself to putting his bedclothes into the dryer, letting the artificial feeling of warmth heat up his soul as he pulled them out.  He grunted his goodbyes to Ohno, wrenching his arms around inside the dryer to make sure he collected his pillowcases as well. 

 

Nino turns around to head home, arms laden with a newly warmed bundle, and walks solidly into something solid.  Arms encircle him to steady him, keep him from falling, and he stiffens immediately, instantly grateful for the extra layers of cloth that he donned this morning to protect the good samaritan.

 

“Ah, Chris.  I didn’t realize I had been stood up for a load of laundry.” 

 

Nino flushed at the familiar voice, at being caught in his lie.  He hadn’t given the assistant an exact excuse, but it was generally something a bit more urgent that kept people from appointments. Not being able to  _ deal with today _ wasn’t exactly the most professional approach. 

 

“Sakurai, good to see you,” Nino attempted to side-step past the broader man, but he shifted with Nino and took part of the laundry out of his arms.  He fell in step next to him, and Nino wondered how he made this level of casualness look so easy. 

 

Sho cleared his throat, and Nino was at odds with how uncertain he suddenly seemed compared to just a moment ago. 

 

“Chris, I feel like I need to clear up a bit of confusion.” 

 

The use of his nickname this close to reliving the recurring nightmare caused Nino’s heart to skip, and he flinched away.  He took a second to balance himself again, and as he did so he saw Sho’s eyes narrow and his face flashed a sad but understanding look. 

 

“I have to say,” Shos’ tone a bit flustered now.  “If you just wanted a free lunch, you didn’t have to flirt so hard.”  

 

“What?” Nino felt the frost coming into his fingertips, and he concentrated hard; he had just washed these sheets - he did not need to waste the money on unfreezing them again. 

 

“I’m not sure how to say this,”  Sho adjusted the load he was carrying to his opposite arm, turning to face Nino directly.  “I saw you two in the coffee shop.” 

 

Nino’s face went blank as he trawled through his memories; coffee shop… coffee shop.  He visited the coffee shop by his house so often, usually alone, that he had a hard time recalling any specific incident where he was not alone. 

 

The image came into his head all at once; seeing Ohno when he walked into the shop.  Suddenly the easy way that they were around each other seemed suspicious; a looming tinge of romanticism instead of the easy touches of their nearly familial friendship.  

 

“Oh, no! That was Ohno,” Nino stumbled over the appropriate words to describe his best friend.  He cringed as he looked from the outside at their easy camaraderie, the way they so often touched without thinking about it.  He couldn’t even recall anything specific, other than how unsettled he had felt after his second lunch and how much he had needed Ohno’s steady presence after Sakurai had discombobulated him so much during their second interview. 

 

“We’ve been best friends our entire lives,” Nino emphasized the word friend, then wrinkled his nose at the inadequate description.  He was also very aware that Sho was a reporter, specifically one working to uncover the mysteries of  _ Freezer.  _

 

They had reached the front of his apartment building, and he reached out, tugging Sho on the sleeve to get his full attention. 

 

“What I tell you now has to stay off the record.” 

 

Sho’s eyes widened, and Nino appreciated that he took the time to fully consider his answer. 

 

“I think I can do that.” 

 

Nino nodded brusquely and pushed past Sho, heading up the stairs. Sho followed him, his longer legs more efficient, making Nino super aware that the other man was close to him.  He let himself enjoy the moment, closing his eyes to jangle his keys into the tumbler. He was a bit hesitant, having seen the inside of Sho’s own home, and was not excited to showcase his own sparse furnishings.

 

“Um, ignore the mess…”  Disregarding usual manners, Nino pushed the door open and let it start closing behind him before Sho caught it on its way.  Nino rushed around the room, picking up a bit of bachelor mess - some clothing strewn over furniture, tossing them under the bed in the other room before coming back out and scooping up the few scattered coffee cups and takeout containers and dropping them in the sink. 

 

Sho followed behind more slowly, finding his way to the kitchen behind Nino.  He leaned against the counter so casually, Nino was a bit flustered. He never expected Sho to be in his space, never expected the man who is at home in warmth and snowglobes to be so comfortable in his chilly third floor walkup.  

 

Nino was now trapped inside the small kitchen space, and his heart sped up dramatically; he wasn’t sure if it was from being cornered in the small space or Sakurai’s physical proximity.  He intentionally decided to set the tone more light-hearted, film noir, and pulled down the tip of an imaginary hat and pulling up an imaginary coat collar.

 

“Well, see, what I’m about to tell you can’t go farther than this room, see?  It must remain a secret, see?” 

 

Sho’s eyes narrowed in speculation before he flashed a quick grin, masking it in a serious facade and pulling out his own fictitious notebook. 

 

“I’m supposed to be a reporter, but you make me want to keep your secrets.  What’s going on, Chris - I mean, Nino? Whatever you’re trying to hide, I can help.  Even more than that, I’ll help you keep it safe.” 

 

Nino’s amusement at Sho’s commitment to his new role was overshadowed by how his heart felt hearing his real name pass the other’s lips.   He decided to start with that point and go on from there.

 

“Ah,” his hand came up the back of his neck, massaging the tension and finding courage in the repetitive motion.  “First, my name isn’t Chris - that was just the easiest way to introduce myself when I was going to school in America.  I’m Ninomiya Kazunari, but my friends call me Nino - you can, too.” 

 

Sho nodded, furiously scribbling fake news on his spectral note pad. 

 

“And, for what it’s worth, there’s nothing romantic going on between me and Ohno.  We’re… together, but that’s in a friendship that might as well be family and also as  business partners sense. We’re not… like that.” 

 

Sho’s eyebrows come together sharply, and he meets Nino’s eyes for the first time since they started this charade.  “Oh, um, you know, there’s nothing  _ wrong _ with being together like that, right? Whether or not you date men is definitely not the subject of my videos with Zedd, and if you thought that I’d out someone else before I’d tell them about myself then you’ve missed the very obvert message that Aiba swears he’s been keeping subtle with every third video’s zoom-in on my ass and quick flash of my Twitter handle…” 

 

Nino can’t help laughing then, it bursts out of him and he throws his head back with abandon.  After a few seconds of confusion, Sho joins him, and the two laugh out the tension that had been building since they met at the laundromat.  It takes all of Nino’s willpower not to pull the other man into his arms, not to show him just how much he appreciated this “Aiba” person he had not even met. 

 

Eventually, he caught his breath and smirked.  True, he knew this could never really lead anywhere, but there was only one more interview of material left before this relationship, this precious warmth, would be relegated to staring into windows like some strange creeper late at night.  He could enjoy this back and forth for just a little longer, appreciate what he had found here… make memories to keep him warm in the future. 

 

“Besides, he’s not even my type.” 

 

~*~

Sho isn’t sure how to take the hot and cold nature of the man standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, but he couldn’t help but feel an intense amount of happiness when he heard about the relationship between Nino and Ohno.  However, he’s not quite sure that he’s ready to handle the blatant invitation in Nino’s words; that, obviously,  _ he  _ is Nino’s type.  He backpedaled frantically to get himself back on familiar ground.

 

“Oh, so you mention business - does that mean Ohno is a silent partner in  _ Freezer? _ ” 

 

Sho internally thanked all that was holy for the sudden straightening in Nino’s posture, how he pushed off from the counter, all bristly and protective in such a way that Sho is absolutely certain that he has hit upon the truth.

 

“We are off the record, Sakurai-san.” 

 

The sharpness in tone, the sudden reversion to his formal moniker, just make a satisfied grin find its way to Sho’s lips.  

 

“That’s true.  So, this line of questioning should wait until later?” 

 

Sho ducks out of the apartment a mere second before he hears the broom bristles hit the door behind him, and he heads back down the stairs at a quick pace, feeling lighter inside than he had since yesterday - no, in the past couple of years.  He had a hunch to research before his next interview with Nino, and he needed a coffee to do that; to reset his day. 

 

He stopped by the same coffee shop he had purchased Jun’s coffee from the other day, scooping up another bag of Dreamstate for the office as well as a large Americano for himself.  He arrives at the office, shrugging off his overcoat and dropping the bag of coffee near the machine, settling into his desk and waking the computer from sleep. 

 

His body was full of adrenaline as he sat at his desk, fingers of one hand tapping against the surface as he sipped his coffee.  It didn’t take quite as long to wake from sleep as it took to boot up in the morning, but Sho could swear that it took six times as long today as it normally did.  He tried his best to ignore Jun’s judging eyebrows from across the room as he shifted in his seat, almost spilling his coffee in his haste to set it down when the login screen came up. 

 

Knowing that Ninomiya had been a student in the US, he could do a bit of digging.  Japanese names weren’t super common occurrences on American campuses, and Nino’s specific combination was unique.  Sho thanked his lucky stars that he had kept up with his English studies, as he was generally able to pore over American news articles with ease. 

 

Sho started with the broadest search - “Ninomiya.”  Disregarding a Wikipedia article on a small town in Kanagawa and a couple of articles about an actor that he had never heard of, he cursed Google’s diligence at returning over 11 million results. He scrolled back up and added on the “Kazunari,” with “Chris” just to make sure it all got narrowed down succinctly. 

 

Sho felt his jaw drop; his stomach fell further.  Although he expected Nino to be hiding secrets, he was expecting them to be hidden achievements - with how amazing  _ Firestarter _ did, he practically assumed he would run across early awards; university level accolades in game development and design.  

 

Instead, Sho stumbles upon tragedy.  

 

_ Promising Undergrad Loses Life to Freezing Waters _

 

_ University of Michigan Issues Warning Regarding Winter Weather Activities _

 

_ Rockingham Family Pledges Matching Donation For Building to House Japanese Student Union, Button Masher League, and E-Sports Arena In Honor of Heroic UM-D Student _

 

Sho reads through the articles one by one, eyes tearing up as he reads through the extent of the tragedy.  A normal afternoon, turning into a desperate race to save a life that comes up all too short. A celebrated student tragically losing their life, a grieving circle of family and friends.  In the corner of the picture at Keith Rockingham’s candlelight vigil was a face he recognized; younger, smaller, wearing layers and layers of warm clothing. 

 

Nino’s previous statement returns then, whispering in his ears.  _ “Sometimes you just want to feel warm.”  _

 

Sho closes his own eyes, already emotionally overwhelmed.  Most of the puzzles within the Chris persona were clearing up, and Sho pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought it through.  Nino’s hot and cold banter, his dedication to privacy, and even how close he was to his friend slash family member slash business partner suddenly made tons of sense. 

 

Suddenly, Jun gasps and Sho turns his head to see him staring, mouth wide open, at the mobile in his hands.  The look of shock on his face is the only thing that keeps Sho from chastising his assistant - seriously, sitting in front of his boss and playing a mobile game  _ is  _ a little much.  Sho pushes back with his legs, sliding his chair across the floor and coming to a stop next to Jun.  He takes advantage of Jun’s shock to peer over his shoulder on to his device. 

 

Jun is at the ending credits, so Sho can’t even decipher what happened through context clues.  He pulls Jun’s headphone out of his left ear, causing Jun to startle so hard that his limbs flail outward, hitting Sho squarely in the chest, other arm swiping his coffee mug across the desk and into his computer. 

 

Sho lunges to try to catch the mug before it tips, but he gets tangled in Jun’s scarf and ends up falling, too.  The pair land on the floor, and they watch in horror as the freshly-filled mug tips, falls, and scalding hot coffee pours in through the fan.  

 

The crash of the two bodies to the floor was loud enough for Aiba to hear, and when he enters the office, Jun is on the verge of tears as a wisp of smoke floats up from the computer’s carcass.  The entire office is now smelling distinctly like singed vanilla, and Sho is awkwardly patting Jun’s shoulder. Aiba’s laughter echoes off the walls as he doubles over, gasping to catch his breath. 

 

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m so glad I installed video cameras last week!” 

 

Jun and Sho meet eyes, and Aiba enjoys his headstart as they push off the floor to chase after him, Jun abandoning his mobile behind. 

 

~*~

 

Later that day, Sho’s trying to finish his investigation as Jun and Aiba wrestle the new computer model onto Jun’s desk.  As an apology for the video cameras and his mirth, Aiba had gone to the new Apple Store in Omotesando and spent way too much money (in Sho’s opinion) on a new iMac Pro.  Jun was elated, and Sho smiled a bit at how much, and how well, Aiba spoiled their assistant. 

 

“Hey, Sho,” Jun’s voice pulled him from his articles, and he glanced over just to roll his eyes as they pulled the special edition deep purple gaming mousepad out of its case.  “The end of  _ Firestarter _ is really something fantastic.”

 

“Oh?” Sho had exhausted the available articles on the web and started clicking the tabs closed; waiting several seconds before clicking closed on the next one so his own computer wouldn’t lock up. 

 

“Yeah.  The player character’s best friend falls in a lake and you literally light it on fire to get him out.  It was like a goddamn Ifrit from Final Fantasy but chaotic good instead of chaotic evil.” 

 

Sho felt his ears get heated, a flush spreading down the rest of his body but most prominent in the tips of his ears.  Well, most prominent now - before he moved out and bought the color-enhanced contacts that kept his eyes from glowing red whenever he was surprised enough he couldn’t handle it well.

 

“What?” 

 

“There’s this party member that you get about three quarters of the way through and you can tell he’s super special as soon as he joins, but like… you don’t realize how much until he falls in.  It then goes to a cutscene and all of a sudden, bam, the lake is burning but you’re carrying him down the pier and he’s safe.” 

 

Sho started connecting all the dots, all the tiny pieces of the puzzle that Nino had scattered through the game and Sho’s interviews with him.  His heart stuttered as he thought about how often Nino had mentioned warmth, or heat; how the other man was rarely seen without additional layers of clothing, how longingly he had spoken of needing warmth. 

 

Even though Sho was an outsider, it seemed very clear to him that Nino could use a little bit of a heatwave.  Sho reached for his coffee, grown cold after the excitement in the office today, and concentrated just a bit until he saw the steam rising back out of the top.  Maybe, just maybe, he could be what Nino is aching for. 

 

He stretched, using the action to expel a little more of his now-anxious energy.  He looked forward to his next interview with his favorite conundrum. 

 

Almost like Sho dreamed it into existence, he heard Jun’s phone vibrate against his desk.   Sho leaned forward in his chair in order to look as nonchalant as he could; there was no reason to clue his coworkers in to his excitement before he had a chance to take Nino up on his blatant invitation from earlier that day.  He started working on his next video idea, half-heartedly joking along with the other men as they finished setting up “MatsuJun’s Productivity Machine.” Everytime Aiba referred to the “MJPM,” Sho could feel Jun’s eyerolls and he was happy anew that this is where he ended up after university. 

 

It was nearing the end of the workday when a new calendar notification popped up on his dashboard.   Jun had scheduled him for lunch with “Chris” tomorrow, at noon, at “the first place.” Sho grinned broadly, glad that the broom bristles weren’t going to be the last he heard from him.  He clicked the acceptance button just as he heard Aiba clatter down the hallway. 

 

“Karaoke?” Aiba’s tousled head popped in, Jun’s nodding head indicating his ready acceptance.  Sho agreed and headed out the door, neglecting his jacket, already feeling warm enough, heady with plans for after lunch the next day. 

 

*~*~

 

Nino’s heart beat its terse litany against his ribs, waiting once again for Sakurai Sho to walk in the door.  He was looking forward to the back and forth that had become the backbone of their interview sessions. 

 

Sho walked in the door, and Nino was struck by the similarity it felt to their first meeting.  He was at the same table, water glass empty but for a couple of icecubes. He had arrived half an hour earlier than their established meeting time, just to recapture the same feeling; to mirror their first in this last.   

 

Nino waved from his table, and the waiter subtly rolled his eyes.  Nino caught it and glared, casually sliding the glass to the edge of the table until it fell off, eyes glittering with cold mischief as the waiter scrambled to get a broom and dustpan. 

 

As soon as the mess was cleared, Sho settled into the seat opposite, and Nino took the opportunity to soak in his form; the warmth that immediately filled him as soon as their eyes met.  Sho settled into the chair opposite, and they shared a level of banter that seemed like they had been friends for their entire lifetime, instead of men dancing around a flirtation for the better part of a week. 

 

After Sho finished ordering enough food for an entire baseball team, the waiter collected their menus and skalked away again.  Nino narrowly resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at him, other thoughts occupying his mind. Nino watched unabashedly as Sho sipped his tea, running his tongue across his own lips in absent mimicry. 

 

“So, Nino - I heard that Firestarter has an unexpected conclusion.” 

 

This was not where Nino thought this conversation today would start, and he was a tad bit taken aback by Sho’s abrupt statement.  He scrambled to respond lightly. 

 

“Well, if people could guess what would happen, it wouldn’t be so well acclaimed, would it?” 

 

Nino could tell Sho wasn’t buying his offhanded response this time, but he decided to wait it out.  Let Sho put his cards on the table for once; Nino had secrets, damnit, and he was bound to keep them. 

 

“So, the ending has nothing to do with the unfortunate accidental death of one Keith Daniel Rockingham, freshman at the University of Michigan - Dearborn, classmate and friend of Ninomiya Kazunari?” 

 

Nino was unable to control his shock, the fierce coldness enveloping his entire body and down his arm, an unstoppable front starting in the bottom of his water glass and cracking it up the side as the contents within were suddenly frozen.  As quick thinking as always, Nino dropped the glass over the side of the table as if just startled, but he took no pleasure in the waiter’s rush for broomstick this time. 

 

“How do you know about Keith?” he’s unable to cover the quivering of his voice, but takes shelter in the sudden empathetic warmth in Sho’s gaze, catching his own and holding it. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to startle you.  Once I knew your name… well, it’s not too unusual.  I was hoping to find some hint to the origins of the brilliant creator that you are.  I was expecting to see accolades, awards… I didn’t expect to uncover a tragedy. Is that why you use a pseudonym with  _ Freezer? _ ” 

 

“I would really prefer if that would stay off the record,” Nino was honestly surprised that his voice was able to stay as level, that the entire restaurant wasn’t currently encased in ice, that he didn’t feel like a giant popsicle.  It almost felt like an actual warmth was radiating off of Sakurai, the frozen ice on the floor already causing the waiter to go get a mop.

 

But now that the events of the tragedy themselves were known to Sakurai, Nino felt better.  A whole lot better, in fact. There was no recrimination, no censure in Sho’s eyes. And Nino knew that he didn’t know the whole story, didn’t know how Nino himself had been the full cause of what led to Keith’s downfall, but it almost seemed that if he did, Sho would offer forgiveness. 

 

That didn’t matter, Nino mentally shook himself.  Today was the end, the last interview. 

 

“Look, I’m going to let you know this because you’re not going to report on the other stuff.  Professional courtesy, if you will. But  _ Freezer _ is coming out with a new game, a sequel so to speak, called  _ Aquaduct.  _  And Firestarter is nothing compared to it.” 

 

“If this is how I get you to reveal your secrets, I wonder what I’m going to have to dig up next time,” Sho’s words were extremely lighthearted, which is the only reason Nino’s heart kept beating.  The conversation continued with the same buoyancy for the next hour, even after Nino watched Sho devour the biggest piece of chocolate cake he had ever seen. 

 

Eventually, the waiter’s passive-aggressive deposit of the check had been half an hour before, and he had taken to standing nearby and not-quite clearing his throat in their direction.  Nino knew that this parting was going to be like pulling off a band-aid; even though he was the only one that knew it was not temporary. He already had his new phone in his pocket, with a new number registered on Ohno’s mom’s phone plan.  He had cancelled and paid out his apartment lease yesterday - it wouldn’t be the first or last time he crashed on Ohno’s couch.  _ Freezer’s  _ corporate address was a PO Box in Akihabara… he was prepared.  Well, as prepared as he could be.

 

“Well, I guess this is it,” Nino got up and grabbed his coat, pushing his chair back in and turning to leave.

 

“Hang on a second,” Sho reached out and tugged on his sleeve, keeping him from making the beeline to the door he had been after.  Quick and simple, that had been the plan. Why wouldn’t Sho let go? 

 

“Can we talk somewhere, in private, just for a minute?” 

 

“How private do you want? There’s the alley right back here, or I know of a great Love Hotel right around the corner that has great hourly rates.” 

 

Nino’s attempt to frighten Sho off was lost before he had even finished, Sho’s hearty laugh breaking over his words.  Nino is taken off-balance, tripping over his chair leg and taking the whole table down with him. Dishes shatter on the ground, leftover food strewn across the entire floor.  The waiter comes barreling out, murder in his eyes, and Sho laughs even harder, throwing down enough cash money to cover the cost of their lunch and all the ceramics they just shattered.  He grabs Nino’s hand and the pair make a mad dash out the door. 

 

Nino is following a step behind Sho as they clear the entryway, stumbling along, completely lost.  He feels the individual calluses on Sho’s fingers, evidence that he didn’t always have a cushy desk job.  His thumb rubs against the back of Sho’s knuckles, legs slowing down even more as he feels the ridges and bumps.  His knees get weak as his body registers the warmth of Sho’s palm. 

 

They reach the side alley and time slows to a stop as Nino slumps against the wall, Sho’s warm brown eyes caught up in delight, a youthful mischief dancing in their depths.  Sho’s hand slips out of Nino’s and cradles his head as Sho’s body, all the hard planes hidden beneath his bulky clothes, pushes hard against Nino as his head dips down, his lips seeking hungrily.  Nino squeezes his eyes shut, hands clenched into tight fists at his side, waiting for the moment that Sho becomes frigid and cold. 

 

He counts; one one thousand, two one thousand, before Sho leans back up - a new worry crossing his face as he looks at Nino hunched over and scared. 

 

“Nino, I’m so sorry.  I thought it was something you wanted, too?” 

 

The tears, Nino tells himself, are of relief.  He pulls Sho back down, trying to show Sho how much it was that yes, this is what he wants.  He surges into the kiss, tasting of Sho deeply, doing his best to illustrate with his mouth how much he is into this; into Sho still being alive.  About how warm he feels, how much Sho’s touch is everything he’s ever wanted or needed. 

 

His hands come to Sho’s face, feeling the tiny bit of stubble running at the edge of Sho’s jaw; he holds the kiss for as long as he can before they both break for air, breathing hard against the wall of the alley that Nino had only jokingly mentioned as a private setting just moments before.  Nino’s fragile heart felt soldered back together, mended by the passion and fire in Sho’s eyes and he leaned forward again, melting into Sho’s chest, finally feeling warm. 

 

“So, is this alley private enough?”  

**Author's Note:**

> The end of this is HOT because I got the flu.  
> I love you.


End file.
